


Teideal

by jayiscoolbeanz



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Android Hank Anderson, Angst, Connor has the last name of Anderson, Depression, Drugs, Eating Disorder, Fluff, Gavin's still an asshole, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Grief/Mourning, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Jimmy has a cafe instead of a bar, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Nines is dead, No redemption for Gavin sorry, Sad, Sumo exists, There's no orgy I swear, Toxic Relationship, alcoholic, by the end of this so does hank, connor needs a therapist, cus why not, i added a shit ton to the storyline, reverse au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-14 07:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18048116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayiscoolbeanz/pseuds/jayiscoolbeanz
Summary: (Reverse AU)“'You think I’m becoming deviant,” Hank paraphrased, and it was like the ground was swept right out from under him. He couldn’t be on that path, not him. He was designed to hunt deviants down and stop the problem from spreading. He couldn’t- he wouldn’t become a part of that. He wouldn’t be like Daniel, who jumped off the balcony with little Emma in his arms.He wouldn’t be like Rupert, who held a pale, terrified Anderson in his death grip, and nearly pushed him to his untimely demise.͞So̵f̡ţwa͜re ҉In̨stabi͘li̧t͡y͟  "





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, the majority of this story contains a shit ton of feels so please be careful if you're sensitive to that kind of thing. Comments are always welcome!

Hank entered the precinct and stopped in the entrance, scanning the layout ahead of him while his LED spun a thoughtful yellow. He was given a task and had someone to locate, but with the sea of desks in front of him, manually locating his target would take more time than if he were to directly ask someone for assistance. “Do you know where can I find Detective Anderson?” He asked, training his searching eyes on the nearest officer.

 

The police officer- Hank’s facial recognition system identified him as Officer Chris Miller- glanced up at the android then returned his gaze to his terminal. A split second later, he jolted, his thoughts finally catching up with him as he brought wide eyes back to the android. “Woah, I thought you were a human for a second,” he said, giving the android a once over with a barely concealed air of awe. 

 

“Yeah, I was built to look and sound more like a human than other android models. It should be beneficial for the tasks I was designed with,” Hank explained, and with his social protocol programming working in the background, he added a shrug to top it off. Miller didn’t say anything, continuing to study the android as if he was the most mind-boggling thing technology had to offer. Well, Hank  _ was  _ the most advanced prototype CyberLife has ever designed to date. Humans were bound to be baffled, especially with how different Hank’s design was in comparison to other androids. “You never answered me, where’s Detective Anderson?” He asked again, trying to stay patient. His mission objectives remained at the edge of his vision, reminding him that things needed to be done as soon as possible. There was no time for humans to wrap their heads around the idea of him.

 

“Oh right, sorry.” Miller gave him a meek smile and pointed a thumb towards a row of desks. “Connor’s further down that way. He’s the one drowning in coffee, can’t miss him.” As an afterthought, he added. “He probably won’t want to talk to you, he doesn’t like being bothered when he’s in the zone.”

 

“Thanks,” Hank said, already turning away and dismissing that last sentence entirely. It was of no concern of his if Anderson didn’t want to speak with him, he still had a task to accomplish. He scanned the indicated row and as instructed, quickly found a man with a mug of coffee raised to his lips. Judging by the angle he was holding the cup, he was desperately trying to drain it down to the last drop. As Hank came closer, the man finally set the mug down on the desk and reclined in his chair, brown eyes staring holes into his terminal.

 

Hank almost scanned his face to confirm his identity, but the nameplate on the desk was proof enough. That was indeed Detective Connor Anderson, the man he was meant to be partnered with during this investigation. Hank took in the man’s appearance. The dark blue button-up long-sleeved shirt, slacks, and shiny black shoes clashed with the socks he wore, which had imprinted grinning characters that Hank could barely make out with how little exposure they had from under his slacks. The internet informed him that these characters were from a series called “Pokemon.” Hank couldn’t determine much from this alone. 

 

He decided he would likely get more information about Anderson from a conversation. Introductions were in order. “Detective Anderson?” The brown eyes swiveled over to Hank’s form, blinked once, then went back to the screen. Uninterested. Hank cleared his throat even though it was unnecessary, referring back to his social protocols program. “I’m Hank, CyberLife sent me.”

  
That caused something to change in Anderson’s expression, and his gaze returned. Like Miller, Anderson likely didn’t realize Hank was an android at first glance. Hank made note of that; CyberLife would be pleased to know that the body they chose for this investigation was having the intended effect on unknowing humans. It would be a great asset if he were to ever go undercover. 

“Oh, an android,” Anderson realized aloud, head tilting to the side as he studied Hank a little more closely. He no longer had the expression of being completely unimpressed, though it might have been preferable in comparison to the slight annoyance he showed now. “I should’ve known they’d start whipping out the android detectives sooner or later.” Without allowing Hank a moment to explain that his assumption wasn’t correct- not yet, anyways- Anderson’s attention jumped right back to his terminal, drinking in whatever information he was reading.

 

Hank hurried to explain himself before Anderson’s attention was lost forever. “CyberLife sent me to work with the Detroit Police Department in order to help with the deviancy case,” Hank explained, and the annoyance evaporated, replaced by keen interest. Hank recalled the report he read before he arrived at the precinct; Anderson already took a case involving deviancy last night and did a fantastic job finding where the deviant was hidden, even without Hank’s help. Perhaps he was already hoping to be put on all deviancy cases? “Someone named Amanda Stern has assigned you to this case, so I’ll be working as your partner.”

 

The annoyance had crept back up again, and a red arrow appeared in Hank’s vision, telling him that his relationship with Anderson was already going in the opposite direction he intended. He must have assumed incorrectly that Anderson would be pleased by this news. “I have no need for a partner, human or machine,” the man told him defensively, standing up and glaring at the section of the precinct that was on higher grounds than the rest and closed off in walls of thin glass. It was obviously an office for someone in a higher position. Perhaps Amanda Stern herself? “Stay here, I’m going to talk to Amanda. Don’t get comfortable, you’re probably going straight back to CyberLife.”

 

Searching through his social programming and not finding anything that fit the situation, Hank settled for another shrug, prompting Anderson to turn on his heel and march to the office. Once he was a few feet away, Hank turned to the man’s desk. A secondary mission objective appeared at the edge of his vision.  _ Learn more about Detective Anderson. _

 

The conversation brought him nowhere in satisfying his objective, so he settled on scanning the man’s desk in hopes of finding something more useful. There were several small stacks of paper with sticky notes attached to certain spots, and while Hank couldn’t understand the organization from a first glance, he was certain that there was a system that Anderson was using to keep track of what went where. The rest of Anderson’s things were put away in a much more understandable fashion. Pens and pencils were neatly stored in a circular container, a grey jacket was neatly folded and stored on one edge of the desk, far away from anything work related. His coffee mug was kept away from the terminal. Everything was free of dust and dirt.

 

_ -Anderson is well-organized. _

 

Hank turned his focus away from the _ layout _ of everything and honed in on anything more personal, but the desk gave little to offer in that aspect. There were no framed photos like other officers tended to have. The only personal interesting things Hank discovered was that Anderson’s phone case had a figure in green that originated from an old cartoon. And there were both dog and cat hairs on the Detective’s jacket. At second glance, he also found that one of the pockets of Anderson’s hoodie were holding a pack of cigarettes. 

 

_ -Anderson has pets. _

_ -Anderson smokes. _

 

Hank searched the desk again to be thorough but was unable to find any more data on Anderson from that alone. For now, his mission to find out more about the Detective would have to be on standby, unless he listened in on the conversation he was currently having with Stern. It was unlikely, but maybe Hank could learn something about the man through their discussion? The issue was, it conflicted with his order to stay put.

 

**Order: Stay here; don’t get comfortable.**

**Task: Learn more about Detective Anderson.**

**Conflicting orders; selecting priority. . . .**

**. . . .**

**. . . . .**

**. . . . . .**

**Priority: Learn more about Detective Anderson** . 

**Listen in on the conversation.**

 

Without further ado, Hank abandoned Anderson’s desk and made his way to Captain Stern’s office. He didn’t make it too far before he already started hearing snippets of their ongoing argument. As Hank made it inside, he made it just in time to witness Anderson throw his arms up in exasperation. “If you think I’m the best suited for this task, why are you forcing me to have a partner?!”

 

Opposing him was a dark-skinned woman who only narrowed her eyes at the childish action, stern and unrelenting; her name was quite fitting for the personality Hank was already picking up on.“This investigation is too important to risk any chance of you screwing it up.” At her words, Anderson flinched, but Stern plowed on, unbothered by the clearly hurt expression. “Connor, I have more important things to do than argue with you on such a trivial matter. Either obey me or turn in your badge.” 

 

“Amanda, I-” Anderson began, voice dipping and sounding almost pleading.

 

“You’re dismissed.” Stern looked away from him and turned to the mountain of paperwork on her desk, cold and dismissive. Anderson bowed his head and turned around, barely glancing at Hank as he dragged himself out of the office. Hank stayed behind for a moment, debating whether or not he should talk with Stern himself on the subject, but his social programming warned him that she was not in any particular mood to deal with him. Another day, perhaps, he decided as he eventually followed Anderson back to his desk. As he walked, he added another thing to his file on the man:

 

_ -Anderson dislikes working with others. _

_ -Anderson possibly dislikes androids.  _

 

The man in subject basically collapsed into his chair, slumping into it and making a groan that almost resembled a whiny child. “Why is she only like this towards me?” He mumbled to himself, but thanks to Hank’s advanced hearing, he still caught the words. The android twiddled around with the idea of pursuing this topic further but decided against it, not knowing for certain how Anderson would react to any questions Hank had about his relationship with Stern, or why he was so adamant about not working with others.  

 

Instead, he decided it would probably be best to steer the conversation into newer waters. “I get that you don’t want to work with me, but since it can’t be helped, maybe it would make it better if we got to know each other?” He brought up one of the many conversation starters he had saved in his memory. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

 

His words were met with another reluctant groan. “I hate small talk, it’s awkward as hell,” he complained, and a red downturned arrow told Hank that the chances of Anderson ever liking him were even slimmer now. “Look, why don’t we just get to work? I doubt CyberLife programmed you to become my best friend. You have a job to do and so do I. That’s all that matters, so let’s stick to that.”

 

“...Okay,” Hank reluctantly complied, though his secondary mission objectives didn’t waver, his programming still pushing him to become better partners with this man. Well, he could always choose a more subtle approach to accomplishing this task. Not entirely satisfied but not wanting to cause Anderson to dislike him even more, Hank nodded along. “Is there an empty desk I can use?”

 

Instead of answering, Connor tipped his head in the direction of the empty desk in front of him, and went back into his own terminal, eyes sharp and focused as he began to read again. Realizing that he was being dismissed, Hank held back a sigh and walked around to sit at his newly appointed desk. His programming nudged him to start a conversation, but keeping Anderson’s earlier words in mind, Hank ignored it. He turned on his computer and interfaced with it, downloading all of the files linked with deviants almost immediately. He was a little taken aback to find that Anderson had already been involved in this investigation since last night. “I just read that you found a deviant HK400 model android while investigating a crime scene last night and arrested it. Someone named Gavin Reed and several other detectives have tried interrogating it but no one’s been able to get it to talk.” He rose his eyebrows. “Why don’t we give it a shot?”

 

Anderson’s expression went sour sometime in the middle of Hank’s observations, but Hank was unable to track what exactly he said that caused the man’s further annoyance. It seemed that it wasn’t directed towards him, however, as there were no further downward arrows next to the Detective’s name. “The only reason I haven’t seen the android yet is-” Anderson shook his head, sighing. “Doesn’t matter. Good idea, Hank. Let’s see if we’ll have better luck with it.”

 

A blue arrow pointing upwards finally appeared next to the Detective’s name.  _ Connor Anderson; distant. _

 

Well, it was better than the  _ “cold” _ title he had only several minutes prior. 

 

~

 

It didn’t take much time for Anderson to arrange the interrogation. Within twenty minutes they had the deviant on the other side of the glass, still covered in human blood and staring at the table almost like it wasn’t even there. “Piece of shit hasn’t said one fucking word all night,” a man ground out as Anderson and Hank both studied the android from behind their side of the glass. Gavin Reed was the man’s name, the same one who was unable to dig out a confession from the deviant the prior night. His grey eyes bore into the android, his gaze scorching. “Maybe if we rough it up a bit, its lips will loosen up a bit.”

 

Next to Reed, Anderson was stiff and alert, watching the other Detective almost warily. “Gavin, robots don’t feel pain,” he reminded him, his tone coming out gentle, almost hesitant. Hank fought against the urge to correct him; the term was android, not robot. “Let me try another approach.” Anderson was about to walk into the interrogation room when Hank snaked a hand around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. 

 

“Deviants sometimes self-destruct when they’re too stressed,” he warned, not knowing whether or not Anderson was able to come across that information or not. It wasn’t common knowledge since deviancy was still a new problem and away from the media’s attention so far. “They’re also known for hurting humans, as you’ve seen last night.” His mind palace brought up the images from Anderson’s crime scene and the body that had been stabbed twenty-eight times. It would be a...shame if Anderson met his untimely demise in a similar manner. “Be careful.”

 

“Aww, someone cares about me,” Anderson said teasingly, and another blue arrow appeared in Hank’s vision. “Thanks for the tip, I think I have a plan.” He pulled himself out of Hank’s grasp, though not roughly, and finally entered the room with the deviant. Reed and Hank both edged closer to the glass as Anderson sat himself across from the android. Hank took this time to scan the deviant, taking notes of its injuries and preparing himself for when he undoubtedly had to go in to take over the interrogation. It was no insult to Anderson, but deviants were a little out of humans’ intelligence. For now, he watched Anderson’s attempt, ready to make note of any mistakes the man made so he knew what to avoid when he would need to take over.

 

For a moment, the detective said nothing, only tilting his head at the deviant, who continued watching the table passively. “When I found you-” Anderson started, scooting his chair in and watching the deviant with cool, calculating eyes. “-the first words you said to me were that you were only defending yourself.” At the apparent reminder, the deviant’s body stiffened, but it didn’t reply. The reaction didn’t seem to escape Anderson’s notice. “I’m sure you were, I can see you’ve been damaged. Did your owner do that to you?”

 

As Hank noted the change in stress levels, he realized that he made the wrong assumption about Detective Anderson. The man clearly knew what he was doing, and probably did enough research into deviants to have already known about them self-destructing. If he dug further into that topic, he likely discovered how far he can push a deviant before it became too dangerous. He had a clearly thought out strategy, and Hank was certain that he would be more successful than the past Detectives. Hank’s assistance wasn’t needed at the moment.

 

All that was left for him to do was sit back and enjoy the show. As much as an android  _ could  _ enjoy anything, that was. 

 

Anderson was careful in his approach, choosing just the right moments to be the bad cop and flipping to good cop as soon as the deviant became a little too frantic for comfort. Anderson’s face remained impassive right up until the point the android finally blurted out, “He tortured me every day.” Anderson blinked, something in his cold exterior shifting. “I did whatever he told me but there was always something wrong.” Interestingly enough, Anderson’s stress levels spiked significantly and something changed in the way he looked at the deviant as it explained the rest of his tale, including when he ended up stabbing the victim. When he was finished, Anderson said nothing as he left the room.

 

They had a confession. Hank reviewed the interrogation and made a note on a few details that didn’t make much sense to him. An interesting subject came up that Anderson wasn’t able to get solid information on- RA9. Hank mentally brought up the photos of the crime scene from last night and reviewed the image of the scrawl in the bathroom. What, or who, was RA9? Did this RA9 play an important role in this investigation? 

 

“Leave the deviant alone for a few minutes so it can calm down,” Anderson said as he re-entered the room with Hank and Reed. He stood near the door for a moment, the leftover coldness in his eyes melting away slowly as he looked between Hank and Reed, until his back stiffened with apprehension, waiting for their responses. Hank’s mind palace told him that humans were often subjected to feelings of anxiousness when performing in front of their peers, that could explain why Anderson was looking between the two of them like he was waiting for praise or an explosion.

 

After a moment of silence, Reed was unexpectedly the one who spoke, “Nicely done, babe,” he said in a gentle tone, clasping Anderson by the shoulder and leaning forward to plant a kiss on the other detective’s cheek. Hank was taken aback by the display of affection; not only did he have no idea the two detectives were engaged in any sort of relationship, but seeing Reed’s personality switch from aggressive to angelic was almost like emotional whiplash. If Hank could ever experience anything like that. “It was kinda hot, watching you like that,” Reed added on, his voice dipping. Hank felt his face scrunch up involuntarily and decided he would disable his advanced hearing if he ever ended up alone with the two detectives ever again. 

 

The only bright side to this situation was that Hank had something else to add to Anderson’s small file:

 

_ -Anderson is in a romantic relationship with Gavin Reed _

 

“Not now, Gavin,” Anderson said in a harsh whisper, shooting glances at Hank who decided to now re-examine the deviant for any detail he might have missed the last few times he scanned him. He could never be too thorough. It was certainly a better use of his time than to watch Reed lean in and press another kiss onto Anderson’s skin, this time on his pale neck.

 

“I love it when you get all flustered,” Reed teased but finally leaned away, though still unapologetic. “You can have your fun with RoboCop, but I’m getting the fuck out of here.” He flashed a grin. “Come to my place later, we need some  _ alone time _ .” There was some kind of implication in Reed’s voice and Hank did his best to pretend he didn’t hear or understand it, to protect his components from overheating more than they already were. Were there really 112 tiles on the ceiling? He wanted to double count to make sure his mind palace’s readings weren’t off. That could mean trouble for future investigations. It was clearly an important matter that needed to take his full attention. 

 

He wasn’t disappointed when it only took him a few seconds to do a double count. Of course not, why would he feel disappointed? He couldn’t feel it to begin with. 

 

“Yeah, okay,” Anderson agreed in a small voice, likely embarrassed that this conversation had an audience. Hank wanted to reassure him that he was an android, so he was incapable of minding anything, but realized it might fluster Anderson further. Or worse, encourage Reed to continue acting in this...unprofessional fashion.

 

“Bye,” Reed said and stole a reluctant kiss from Anderson before leaving the room, not even glancing at Hank as he passed by. When the android was alone with Anderson, the tension finally left the man’s shoulders and he gave himself a hard shake.

 

“Let’s take the android to its holding cell,” he said shortly, opening the door back to the interrogation room without waiting for a reply. Hank quickly followed him through, understanding the unspoken command.  _ Don’t ever bring up what happened with Reed. _

 

If androids could feel content, Hank would have been all too happy with leaving that topic untouched forever. 

 


	2. Chapter Two

After Hank and Detective Anderson escorted the deviant to its holding cell, Hank had assumed that Anderson would be leaving on his scheduled visit to see Reed, since his calculations told him that Anderson's expected shift time ended well over half an hour ago. Today was only meant to be a day of introductions and getting him and Anderson a foothold in the investigation, after all. To his surprise, Anderson had other plans in mind.

The man was back at his terminal within minutes of the deviant being locked away. His brown eyes were sharp as he scrolled through files once more. There was a chance the time escaped his attention, and he was unaware that his workday was done. Hank felt compelled to tell Anderson that his shift was over. "Detective, correct me if I'm wrong but your shift already ended. You can go home now," he told him as he made his careful approach.

He was not expecting a snort in response. "I never leave when I'm supposed to. When I get a case, I close it as soon as possible. Until Amanda throws me out the door, I'm staying," he explained, continuing to look over the list of profiles. "An AX400 recently murdered its owner," he muttered to himself in thought, straying on the picture he came across. At the prompt, Hank brought up the image as well in his own head and looked it over as well. "The crime scene was already looked over by the DPD but they were only investigating the scene for murder.  _We_  should have another look and see if we can find any clues as to why it went deviant in the first place." His eyes flitted over the picture again, perhaps to drink in the details and engrave it into his memory. As he did so, Hank saved another bit of information into his file on the detective.

_-Anderson is an efficient worker_

Hank acknowledged how admirable it was for Anderson to put off his personal time in order to pursue the investigation further. From what Hank understood about humans, that wasn't often the case. Anderson, however, was obviously persistent and determined to finish projects as quickly as possible. "If that's what you want," the android agreed, and his and Anderson's relationship levels went up slightly. Anderson certainly was an interesting human, their interactions went against most of the social protocols Hank had. It was...frustrating, for lack of better word, but it was also a nice challenge. It really tested his capabilities of integrating with human society. If he could develop a working relationship with someone as eccentric as Anderson, he could fit into any human group CyberLife throws him into.

Anderson's lips turned up in a quick grin at Hank's compliance and he quickly shrugged on his coat before leading Hank out of the precinct and into the parking lot where Anderson had his car parked. Out of habit, Hank did a quick scan on it but didn't find anything out of the ordinary, it was a standard Ford made self-driving vehicle. The model and year appeared in Hank's vision but he dismissed it, not seeing anything relevant about it. A car was a car, he didn't care about the specifics.

The car pulled out onto the road after Anderson put in the address, and the two were thrown into silence. Hank's social systems again tried to nudge some conversation starters into his mind and Hank almost dismissed them but realized that sitting around in this awkward silence wasn't very...appealing. "How long have you been a Detective?"

Anderson glanced at him, and a red arrow appeared in Hank's line of vision. Shit, what did he do now? "I'm sure you're fully capable of looking up all there is to know about me. What did I say about unnecessary small talk?" Hank frowned, wracking his processor for anything else to save this conversation, but Anderson rolled his eyes before rolling down the window. A cigarette appeared in his hand, which was quickly lit and put between his teeth. Hank's mind palace immediately brought up all the risks that came with smoking and the negative impacts it had on the body. Reluctantly, he dismissed the information, but he found a sudden urge to rip the stick out of the Detective's hand and flick it outside. Since it wouldn't benefit the mission, and would only piss Anderson off, he remained put.

It still...bothered him.

**_̴S̵oftw̧a͘r̷e ̡Insta҉bi̷li̶t͏y͘_ **

As soon as the message appeared in his vision, Hank reared backward on instinct, since seeing error messages usually meant he was in some sort of danger. Anderson blinked hard and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow as if silently asking what was wrong. Hank did a quick diagnosis on his systems but couldn't locate anything that was malfunctioning, and the error message had already disappeared. Without having any concrete information, Hank could only put a few clues together and make an assumption. "I think your cigarette smoke confused my sensors for a second like they thought there was a fire or something," he guessed with a shrug. "My systems must have thought I was in danger so I saw a warning message for a second."

"And here I thought androids were supposed to be perfect," Anderson mused, lips twitching upwards at the beginning of a smile as he took another long drag out of his cigarette. When Hank opened his mouth to reply, a trail of smoke entered his mouth and he immediately began to analyze it. He could tell everything that was in the cigarette Anderson had in his mouth. The urge to confiscate the damn thing grew stronger. Why did humans willingly put substances like that in their systems, knowing damn well that it would be the death of them?

A better question was: what did it matter to him? It wasn't relevant to the mission.

Hank quickly dismissed the cigarette information from his HUD.

Anderson opened his phone and began to scroll through some app, the corner of his mouth moving upwards as he read whatever he was looking at. Hank turned his head to look out the window and attempt to take this time to work out a strategy on how to improve his relationship with Anderson. He was not expecting the man to tap his shoulder and show him what was on his screen. "Android meme," Anderson said in explanation, waving the phone around a little. Hank blinked at the image of a PC200 with its eyes looking as though they were rolling to the back of its head, though Hank knew it was running a diagnosis. A caption under the picture read: _"the face you make tryin not to nut during your prostate exam."_ Hank's eyebrows flew to his hairline out of their own accord and he couldn't help but stare at Anderson, more than a little surprised by the man's sense of humor.

Anderson burst into laughter as he watched Hank's reaction, leaning back in his seat with a wide grin. "I doubt you understand the fine art of memes, but it was worth a try," he said with another chuckle before returning to his device, smirking at another picture he came across that Hank wasn't privy to this time around.

Realizing this was the perfect opportunity to connect with Anderson, Hank ran a quick search through the internet for more android related memes. Once he found one, he jumped straight into action. "Detective," he said to get the man's attention, his LED spinning yellow as he connected with Anderson's cellphone to put the meme on display.

Anderson blinked hard at his phone before a wide smile spread across his face, and a blue arrow appeared in Hank's vision. "Kinda freaky that you just hacked my phone, but the meme was worth it," he explained, and Hank felt all of the previous tension between them melt away like butter. Hank was tempted to find something else on the internet to show Anderson, but the man suddenly looked through his windshield and locked his phone, sighing happily. "We're here."

The self-driving car drove itself into a parking lot which seemed to belong to a fast food establishment at first glance. Hank almost assumed they were picking up something for Anderson to eat since he likely hasn't had dinner yet, but then he saw a cup symbol at the front of the building as they parked. Sure enough, when Hank consulted his inner GPS system, he was informed they were currently at "Jimmy's," a local coffee shop with very little reviews. Hank recalled the coffee Anderson gulped down right before they met at the precinct and frowned. "Detective, I'm pretty sure you've had enough caffeine for the day." As the words came out of his mouth, his processors brought up the recommended amount of caffeine per day. Assuming that the large mug Anderson used earlier was completely full, that should have been plenty. Besides, drinking caffeinated beverages this late in the day leaves risk for insomnia in the night and could cause a later start the next workday. It could negatively impact the case.

"Nonsense," Anderson quickly dismissed, throwing his door open and making his approach to the shop. Hank was unsure if Anderson intended for him to follow or not, but not finding any reason not to, he opened his own door and quickened his pace in order to catch up with him just as the automatic doors opened. "Jimmy!" The detective called out as they entered, grinning at the male working behind the counter. "Your favorite customer has arrived!"

The man behind the counter- Jimmy- rolled his eyes at the younger man, but didn't argue about the favoritism. He was dark skinned and had long dreadlocks that were pulled into a hasty looking ponytail. He wore a cream-colored shirt that was tucked into dark slacks, though the redheaded teenage girl working next to him wore a white shirt with the company name and logo on it. He was clearly the owner of the establishment, especially if the name of the shop was put into consideration. "Connor, I think at this point you're what's keeping my entire business afloat. How many cups of coffee does one guy need?" He pushed the drink he was working on towards the girl, who snickered as she sprayed whip cream on top of the order.

"What can I say, detective work is tiring," Anderson explained, approaching the end of the counter closest to Jimmy and resting his elbows on the surface. Hank followed without much second thought, standing two feet away from him to give him what humans dubbed 'personal space.' His movement, however, caught Jimmy's attention and his focus was soon solely on the android.

"Hey, is that thing giving you trouble?" He asked, narrowing his dark eyes at Hank, whose LED flickered yellow. He saw that Jimmy was leaning towards the knife on the counter and preconstructed what he would need to do in order to avoid being damaged. Thankfully, Anderson intervened before that became necessary.

"Hank's alright, so far he's the best android I've come across," the detective reassured, then wrinkled his nose. "From what I understand, he's a prototype android detective. I've been chasing off all my partners that Amanda tries to stick on me, so I guess Hank is stuck with me." Hank found that wording interesting. It wasn't  _'I'm stuck with him,_ ' but  _'_ ** _he's_** _stuck with_ ** _me_** _.'_

Jimmy let out a low whistle, reaching across the counter to pat Anderson's shoulder as a sympathetic gesture. "Androids are replacing us all, huh? Detectives too." He shook his head and sighed, retracting his hand so he could rest his cheek on his palm. "Been thinking about getting some android help myself, but I can't just fire my employees like that. Where else will they go, with androids stealing jobs at every goddamn corner?" Before Anderson could reply, Jimmy smacked himself on the forehead. "Sorry, Con, here I am blabbing away and you still have work to do. Want your usual?"

Anderson smiled in sympathy for Jimmy's rant, but he obviously also recognized that he was wasting time and didn't reply to the spiel. "The usual would be great. I have to use your restroom real quick, but I'll be right back." He went to leave but glanced at Hank, and breathed out a small laugh. "I know you're programmed to follow me around while we're on the clock, but stay here. I don't need an audience."

Hank offered a smile. "Sure," he agreed, though he had no plans to follow Anderson into the restroom in the first place. He already knew that was a breach of privacy and tended to make humans very uncomfortable.

  
As Anderson left the room, Hank looked around the establishment. He wasn't surprised to see a number of anti-android posters on the walls after listening to Jimmy talk about the subject. Otherwise, there wasn't anything that caught his attention; there were abstract paintings and a few potted plants that he was certain most cafes had. There wasn't a special theme to the shop either, it was remarkably plain and simple. Perhaps that was what Connor appreciated about the store.

"Do you know if he's doing okay?" The girl suddenly asked Jimmy, and Hank shifted his attention back to the two. Neither of them acknowledged that he was watching them. To most humans, androids were almost invisible, which was beneficial in a lot of situations, Hank found. "That bruise on his face last week looked awful."

"That kid doesn't have a single shred of self-preservation in his bones," Jimmy said with a sigh, looking over at the hallway Anderson had disappeared into. Oh. They were talking about something that happened to Anderson. An injury at work, probably. "He hasn't said anything other than the time he came here  _right_  before we closed and crashed on my couch." He winced as if recalling the event, clearly considering it a very unpleasant memory. Hank wondered what exactly happened that would push Anderson to ask Jimmy if he could spend the night at his house, and how bad it would have to be to make Jimmy's body tense with concern in present time. "Anytime I try to bring it up, he changes the subject or tells me he just doesn't want to talk about it."

"Poor Connor," the girl said softly, and she looked absolutely saddened for the detective, green eyes alight with compassion as she worked on blending something together. Hank was now under the impression that they weren't discussing an everyday injury from the line of work. "Everything's been going downhill for him since nines." Hank blinked at the word nines, not understanding what the significance of it was. An event, a year, a place, maybe even a hockey team? Without further information, Hank was unable to search for anything on the internet.

Jimmy nodded his head in agreement. "Hell, I'm surprised Con hasn't packed everything and left Detroit by now. God knows I would have if I was in his shoes." He stilled as the sound of footsteps came from down the hallway, and he rose a warning finger up to his lips and proceeded to pour the contents of the blender into a tall cup. "Con, do you want whipped cream today?" He asked as the detective came into everyone's field of vision.

"No, thank you," Anderson said politely and cheerfully took the cup after Jimmy put a cap on it and offered it to him. "What's the damage?" He asked, already reaching for his pocket with his free hand. He stopped the movement when Jimmy motioned for him to do so.

"It's your monthly free cup," Jimmy told him, crossing his arms over his chest. "Con, you spend way too much money on coffee. I'm not sure how you can afford groceries and shit with all the money you're wasting here every day." Anderson chuckled at that but looked a little uncomfortable with the offer of free coffee. Jimmy noticed and sighed. "If you try to pay me for that, I will pour it over your head."

"Okay, okay," Anderson agreed with a louder laugh, giving the shop owner a warm, beaming smile that lit up his entire face. "I should head out now, but the next time I come in, I'll try to stick around a little longer so we can catch up."

"Good, I've been working on an experimental cake and I want your opinion on it," the older man told him, and Anderson's face contorted with discomfort before it was quickly disguised with another cheerful smile. Hank caught it, though. Did Anderson not like cake? "Well, go on then, put some more bad guys behind bars. But take care of yourself, Con."

Anderson rose a hand in a mock salute. "Yes sir," he said jokingly, eyes alight. "See you later, Jimmy, bye Kaitlynn." After a short wave to the girl, he turned and walked out of the shop, with Hank trailing by a few feet away. As they entered their car, Anderson took a long sip out of his cup and groaned out of sheer delight. "No one makes their coffee like Jimmy. If he goes out of business, that's it for me."

Hank tilted his head as he analyzed Anderson's behavior and speech pattern. It was apparent that Anderson had warmed up to his presence a significant amount since the blunt and coldness of his tone had lessened considerably. It was as if leaving the precinct had flipped a switch in Anderson's personality. Perhaps he associated the precinct with stress and became more irritable in the building because of it. "Do you know anyone you could bring here so Jimmy gets more customers?" He asked, secretly trying to figure out if Anderson had any friends or family he wanted to mention.

"I already have Chris coming here," Anderson informed him as the car began to pull back out of the lot. The answer was a little disappointing, Hank was hoping to learn a little more about Anderson by now. The man took another long sip of his drink, watching Hank thoughtfully. "Your LED was spinning yellow back there, did Jimmy give you a hard time?"

Was it? He was unaware of it, too focused on trying to digest the conversation he was eavesdropping on. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to fully grasp what Jimmy and Kaitlynn were discussing, but he was clear as day that the subject was a personal one. Anderson probably wouldn't appreciate Hank openly prying into his business. "They seemed protective over you," he told him, which wasn't a lie. The warm concern in Kaitlynn's eyes and the clank of Jimmy's teeth gritting together as they spoke told him that they cared deeply for Anderson.

Anderson's face softened at the comment. "Maybe," he said quietly, and his chocolate eyes darted away from the android's face and onto the road ahead of them, glazing over in thought. His fingers danced across the plastic cup in a rhythm that Hank was unable to identify.

The rest of the ride was held in silence.

~

The neighborhood that the deviant AX400 was from was clearly unpleasant, Hank immediately noticed as they grew closer to their destination. The paint was peeling from most of the houses' exteriors, the lawns were unkempt, and some of the buildings had broken windows or had doors broken into splinters. Hank was certain he caught a glimpse of an individual slipping a suspicious plastic bag into another person's pocket. The preservation of his partner's life wasn't a mission given to him directly, but he assumed it was important nevertheless, so Hank decided to keep an especially close eye on Anderson while they were in this area, just in case.

When the car pulled up in front of the house, Anderson exited almost mechanically, without a single word to Hank. The android was quick to catch up again, just as the human opened the front door. "The victim's body has already been moved, but that doesn't matter. The crime scene has already been combed over by the homicide division, we just need to look it over to see where the deviant part happened." The dark pools of his eyes took in the living room area and skirted around the dining room, where there was an overthrown table. "Do you think the android did that?"

After being prompted, Hank circled around the table, stepping over the cold plates of spaghetti scattered across the floor as best as he could. Two plates, even though there was only one human? Todd Williams had owned a YK500 as well as the AX400. YK500s were usually bought by humans who wanted practice with caring for children before having any of their own, or on the rare occasion, humans who were trying to overcome their grief of losing a child. It was likely that Todd bought the YK500 in an attempt to replace the daughter he lost custody of. If Todd was determined enough to pretend he never lost his daughter, it explained the extra plate of food.

Hank furrowed his brow and pulled up the information regarding the human on his HUD, immediately being met with divorce papers and losing a custody battle regarding their shared child. According to the reports, his ex-wife declared that Todd was addicted to drugs and was prone to violent outbursts towards her and their daughter. That matched up with the report that Hank and Anderson had read; there were baggies filled with Red Ice hidden around the house. Red Ice was also found in the victim's bloodstream during the autopsy, which is known to make users experience powerful mood swings. If Todd had been prone to anger while under the influence before, it's not a large leap to assume that much hadn't changed.

With that information in mind, Hank took a quick glance at the rest of the house. Everything looked tidy, though Red Ice users were prone to disregard anything related to organization, so it was easy to tell that the AX400 did its job. While there was a possibility that it had gone deviant and flipped the dining room table for no particular reason, Hank found that hard to believe. From what he has seen so far, deviancy started after stressful events. With all of the information he collected on Todd Williams, it was easier to believe he was the cause of the mess in the dining area.

After reconstructing the scene and seeing it add up, Hank turned back to Anderson. Only a few real-time seconds had gone by since the detective voiced his question. "After reviewing the details, there's a much higher probability that the human did this," he said, nodding at the table. Anderson hummed in acknowledgment, and after not receiving an argument, Hank continued, "I think the victim had recently taken Red Ice, which made him irritable, so he lashed out at the two androids. This might have been what initially made them go deviant."

Anderson's gaze traveled over the splatter of spaghetti sauce around the carpet, his lips pulling in a small grimace before he turned around, and made for the staircase. There was still no argument about Hank's findings, so he assumed they were on the same page for the moment, and quickly trailed behind. "The YK400 had its own room," Anderson commented, though it was unnecessary since Hank had access to the same information Anderson read. Hank nodded in response, another useless action since Anderson couldn't see it. "There might be something in there," Anderson finished, and Hank paused. He hadn't considered that just yet.

"Alright," he quickly agreed, affirming the note he made about Anderson's efficiency in his databases. He certainly was paired with the most suited person for this investigation. Hank briefly wondered why Anderson hadn't been promoted yet, but quickly dismissed the thought after realizing its irrelevance.

He still caught himself imagining CyberLife putting out a good word for the detective after this was all said and done and hoped that would be enough to help his career move forward.

The two of them went into the last door on the right-hand side of the hallway and were met with what Hank assumed would have been a standard looking bedroom for a young human girl. After dismissing the blood stains and the traces of thirium that were unseen to the naked eye, Hank's attention was caught by the tent-like structure in one corner of the room, which had a few pillows on the floor and a book with torn pages inside. Little paper figurines hung from the entrance of what Hank assumed was supposed to be a fort. His LED spun yellow as he wondered if most YK400s had programming as complicated as this, that urged them to do things like build forts. Like...actual human children. Or maybe the YK400 had gone deviant prior to this?

Meanwhile, Anderson was eyeing the bookshelf near the door, looking almost impressed. "I don't see a lot of paper books anymore," he commented distractedly, his hand moving as if he was about to take one of them, but he froze mid-action before quickly returning his arm by his side. He then turned, looking around the rest of the room. "If I didn't know any better, I would think this was a human child's room. It's a little weird," he said truthfully, walking over to the nearby dresser and opening the music box on top of it. A soft melody immediately began to play, and Anderson's eyes softened. He was about to close it again but paused, furrowing his brow at something. "Do most YK400s draw?" He asked, pulling out a stack of paper. He looked at the top picture and made a face, his skin paling. He glanced at Hank from over the pages and in a hushed tone, let out a single, "Fuck."

Hank's LED cycled yellow as he joined the detective, huddling close to him so he could see the picture as well. It was hard to decipher at first glance since it was meant to resemble a child's drawing skills, but he was able to make out the image of a man standing over a girl with water around her, and a smaller girl crying nearby.

Wait.

No, the girl on the floor was no girl, that was an android. It must have been the AX400, and it wasn't in a puddle of water, it was leaking  _thirium_. The crying girl must have been the YK500.

Fuck indeed. Hank could see how this picture could be...unsettling, to a human. "They're only androids, they don't actually feel pain or fear," he reminded Anderson, hoping that would reassure him. It didn't if his unwavering stress levels were anything to go by. The longer Anderson stared at the details of the picture, the more his stress levels slowly ticked upwards. "Here, let's put that down." Hank gently took the papers away from Anderson and returned them to the music box, closing the lid firmly. Anderson's stress levels had dropped down a few percentages but were still in an unhealthy range, so Hank moved the subject along. "I think it's safe to say that Todd's violence against his androids is what pushed them to become deviants."

Anderson blinked slowly, obviously still concerned about the drawing, but after a few seconds, his eyes sharpened and the gears in his mind were churning as usual. "Between these two androids and the one I interrogated earlier, we have a common factor of abuse." Hank was about to remind him that androids were incapable of being abused since they were nothing but objects, but Anderson gave him little room to interrupt. "But not all of the reported deviants came from those kinds of backgrounds. It seems like strong emotional responses trigger deviancy, but how do androids start experiencing emotions in the first place? Do they always feel them?" He regarded Hank thoughtfully. "Do  _you_  feel any emotions?"

Hank didn't even pause before answering, "No. Androids are incapable of feeling emotions. Deviants have a glitch in their software that causes them to mimic emotions, but that's it." Anderson nodded, but there was something different in his expression. The cold, determined set of his face had dropped a notch, leaving him looking... puzzled. His attention was on the music box again, and he was prying it open when a notification appeared in Hank's HUD. "The AX400 has been sighted late last night. We should go to the last place it was spotted, and quickly, so we have a better chance of tracking it and the YK500 down."

The stiffness in Anderson's shoulders quickly returned and he turned away from the music box, the fort, and the moderate collection of books on the shelf. He practically fled to the door, keeping his gaze straight ahead of himself the entire time. "Let's go," he said flatly and Hank was right on his heels as he exited the room.

The gentle sound of the music box continued on after Anderson left it open, and as they hurried down the flight of stairs, Hank's advanced hearing picked up the sound of it coming to a sudden halt, in the middle of a note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank: *shows Connor a meme*
> 
> Connor: What is the MEMEing of this?!
> 
> Hank: .... 
> 
> Connor: *dies laughing at his own joke while Hank tries to jump out the car window*


End file.
